Mercy
by Kayo-San
Summary: Warrior!Deokman AU. The fifth Hwarang ethos is to never kill for unjust reasons. One-shots revolving around the kind of relationships a slightly different Deokman could have had with quasi-major characters. Stories of conquest and bravery, interspersed by light humour and angst, dominated by tactless politicking and a child too angry to care about finesse.
1. Irony - Purple Yellow

It's almost desperately that the young nangdo struggles to move him.

If the situation were any less dire, Alcheon rang would have laughed at the sheer irony.

"Just go, kid. Neither of us will make it out alive like this."

The melee is over, as is the main fighting, their group did, in fact, complete their mission to clear off the defending Baekje archers.

Not without casualties.

Even from his Bi Cheon Ji Do he can name people whom he watched fall.

"Alcheon rang, please, please move with me. Just there," Yushin's nangdo does his best to plead, perhaps motivate him into moving.

The sun rising higher as noon approaches, their pre-set time for regrouping.

His vague gestures towards the featureless grass-scape aren't helpful.

They shift a couple more metres, and he puts his good foot down.

"Put me down."

Stubbornly, Deokman shakes his head, "Not if you're going to collapse and just give up."

His face contorts into a grimace as he jars his hurt-possibly broken leg.

"You won't last if you have to carry me all the way back to where we're meant to meet the rest."

Looking around carefully for more Baekje stragglers before they stumble along, past blood stains and corpses.

Arm slung over the slimmer shoulders of the shorter male, limping through grass, he's tugged towards the standing high tower.

As he concentrates on keeping himself upright and moving, it's the nangdo who's watching where they step, preventing him from falling.

* * *

In a moment of detachment, he spaces out, opting to focus on putting another foot before another.

A blade glances past his leather belt, and he's so out of it his first reaction is to jerk away.

Deokman brings an armoured forearm down on it, knocking the blade out of the enemy's wavering grip.

The face of the soldier runs with cuts and bleeding lacerations, a crooked grin revealing missing teeth.

Even as Alcheon reaches for his sword, the nangdo has moved, drawing his blade, slashing in a wide _overextended/sloppy/foolish_ arc, cutting down the Baekje warrior.

The boy hurries back to support him, asking if he's okay.

You could call it his pride that prevented him from replying anything but that cutting reply, "When we get back, I'm going to teach you how to use a sword properly even if it kills me."

He hears the scoff by his ear, and he whips around, almost daring the nangdo to say no, but it's the next line that keeps him quiet.

"You've promised to get back alive. So focus on staying alive and don't waste your energy on talking, Alcheon rang."

They move at a steady pace, and he regains his footing, becoming accustomed to the limp.

As they walk past yet another pile of corpses he hears his companion gasp softly.

He's lowered to the ground before he can protest, and then he sees it too.

Among the Baekje standard issue armours, yellow and blue – _his,_ his mind shrieks.

Deokman splashes through the muddy river, ill-fitting leather guards flapping about, pant legs ballooning and taking in water as he moves towards the pile.

Pulling the two bodies back to shore, fingers to their neck, Alcheon looks over from a distance away as he limps over.

It's the sheer relief in the nangdo's eyes that makes him sag, and he's grateful.

Moments later, they're both successfully resuscitated, coughing up bloody and muddy water.

The _stupid_ boy is crying, gripping hard at his cadre mate who smiles a watery grin, hand patting his back, "I thought you were dead, Jukbang-hyung!"

He cracks a smile at his nangdo, who up till then had simply been sitting silently, looking at him.

"It's good to see you again, Yang Gil."

When his assistant begins tearing, he and the other elder nangdo share a look.

 _They're young. So young._

In the next moment, he's supported and up right again, issuing sharp commands that they're to move again.

"We don't have much time."

* * *

"Where's Godo, Deokman? I lost track of him in the fighting, after he went to Dae Poong."

The boy shrugs helplessly.

Yang Gil cuts in, "The fat guy right? I saw him take down a couple of Baekje scum and then he got swarmed."

There's no more talk on missing comrades, no more talk at all in fact.

But they move, over slight hills, across flat grass never pausing, just hoping.

And they regroup, tatters of their original squadron, slowly, people inching from all corners.

It's well past noon, the promised backup never comes.

It goes past mid-afternoon and they take stock of missing members.

Yushin left with Lord Seolwon, and by default he should reassume control.

Deokman recollects the members of Yushin's Yong Hwa Hyang Do, reporting the headcount, and Yang Gil does so for his Bi Cheon Ji Do.

"We have one a member who's badly wounded, he needs medical attention, Alcheon rang. What should we do?"

It's that meaningful look that Yang Gil gives him, and he levels a cold look back.

It's one of _those_ cases again.

He's no stranger to pain, or to loss, let alone a mercy killing.

"Kill him."

There's a sudden ripple of silence that spreads over their small group of near twenty.

His nangdo winces, near visibly recoiling.

"B-but Alcheon rang, it's –"

He cuts him off, because _fuck don't you see that I'll waver as well and right now can't_ , "Did you not hear me? I said kill him!" _can't have that kind of uncertainty._

The voice tapers off to weak and obedient, defeated, "I understand."

Alcheon leans back, looking up to the sky, eyes closing in prayer.

It had been another moment of detachment.

He opened his eyes to Yang Gil drawing a sword on Deokman.

"Alcheon rang, tell him that he can't kill his own comrade!"

"I already told you midget that it was Alcheon rang's orders!"

His gaze flits to the nangdo kneeling on the ground, awaiting execution.

 _Broken leg, mangled arm, heavy bleeding, head wound._

 _Survival chance, 20%, movement capabilities, nil._

"He will weigh us down as we attempt to head back to camp. There'll be more Baekje soldiers around, with him, our chances of survival lessen. I did give the order to kill him."

Yang Gil readies his blade again, bringing it down.

* * *

Deokman tackles his nangdo down, even as the one clad in his yellow begins crying silently on the floor.

Fiercely, Yushin's nangdo tussles, wrenching Yang Gil's sword out of his grip.

"Do something, Jukbang-hyung, help him so he isn't such a burden! Godo, can't you carry him rather than let him die? And you, Alcheon rang, why don't you kill him yourself rather than get Yang Gil to do it?!"

Immediately, the rest of Yushin's cadre rushes over to look over -his- nangdo.

They clear off, moving out of his sight, even all his remaining nangdo, worrying and fussing over an invalid.

Unbidden, his anger rises to the surface, trying to see why in hell this imbecile is aiming to get them all killed, "Can't you see that he's gonna get us killed?"

With every step he takes, deriving a twisted satisfaction from the fear that grows in the boy's eyes.

"Can't you see that with your ideals, you're only prolonging his pain?"

The child's back hits a wall of the high tower.

"Can't you see that we're already not in a good shape, that it'll take a miracle for just us to make it out alive?"

Fingers gripping into the worn rock.

"Why won't you let me deal with my nangdo the way I will?"

His limp doesn't hinder him anymore, and yet, with Deokman staring him straight in the eye, defiantly glaring, he's lost his momentum.

"Because we aren't meant to take lives indiscriminately. Our fifth rule, to exercise discretion when taking a life."

He finds that it's not something he can argue with, because by then, Alcheon is just tired.

Yang Gil, from his spot on the ground, murmurs lowly, that he'll set up a watch so everyone gets to rest.

Even his last nangdo leaves for the one he wanted killed.

He half collapses there and then, only for Deokman to catch him.

He blames irony.

"You know, Alcheon rang, it's not we don't understand."

The kid has the audacity to smile at him.

"We all have our demons. This is just my way of asking the world for forgiveness, since I've already murdered."

* * *

Given that everyone else paired up, they're left with each other, taking the last watch till day break.

He stretches carefully, working the kinks out of his muscles from the less than comfortable position he slept in.

Yushin's nangdo offers him his water container, and he thinks rather distantly of where his must have gone.

Alcheon gratefully drinks, before handing it back.

"How's your leg?"

He stands shakily, gently leaning his weigh on it.

It's on the verge of giving out, but he can stand.

"Better."

They both cast back looks at the group peacefully sleeping behind them.

 _"I will protect you"_

When he wakes up, it's mild confusion, _when did I fall asleep?_

The sharp _twang_ of an arrow, then the muted _thwack_ of it burying itself in flesh is enough to jolt him out of his reverie.

"That makes six…"

A quiet voice.

He startles, hand drawing his blade.

Beside him, the child startles as well, before calming.

"Did you rest well, Alcheon rang?"

He bites back a curse because it's his fault he fell asleep.

Deokman's eyes widen, then he's lunging at him, sword unsheathing mid-movement.

He's only half turned, barely dodging another sword that would have amputated his arm, when cleanly, his attacker's head is lopped off.

Once more, the child catches him, winces when the uncovered blade bites into his palm.

* * *

Seokpum rang and his men, with Yushin rang come for them just as dawn breaks, a Baekje group on their tail.

Overnight, the child appears to have changed, from that idealist who refused to let him put a man out of his misery, to someone willing to go to great lengths to keep his comrades safe.

Later, in reflection, he would realise that they were still one and the same.

Deokman races to the top of the watch tower, setting one foot on the wall and overlooking the battlefield.

Someone being ganged-up upon? Flood the area with consecutive arrows.

Someone's unprotected back? Another Baekje soldier would go down for the count.

Somewhere along the way, he must have run out of arrows, because one moment Alcheon is clashing swords with a Baekje warrior, with Seokpum rang just up head.

The next, Seokpum rang is targeted from the back, and before he can issue a warning, a blade whizzes through the air, stabbing the enemy through the head, missing Seokpum rang by inches.

Commendably, he continues to fight in the chaos, cutting down as many as he can.

Alcheon rang doesn't miss the way his eyes begin to flit towards the tower every now and then.

He stumbles, and his opponent makes a break for it.

He barely thrusts the sword through his opponent's ankle, twisting – rendering him lame, before rolling over to avoid another coming down where his head had been.

There're a couple of thuds behind, and his stomach sinks.

The purple clad Hwarang is off, running towards the tower.

Alcheon struggles to stand, covering for him, defending from three Baekje troops simultaneously, while guarding his injured leg.

* * *

The kid, up on the tower is surrounded and unarmed.

Only by sheer luck does wimpy Yushin's nangdo push a couple off the tower.

Even from a distance, Seokpum is more than sure that such a fall means death.

He's not an emotional person by nature, nor is he attached to his men.

But he values -highly- loyalty, and is by the nangdo's act, indebted.

It is his own incapability that led the boy to use his own sword as an arrow.

Backed up against the ledge, a clever feint has another Baekje fool tumbling over the edge.

An all too real reminder of the imminent danger that boy wearing blue is in.

"Jump!"

He hollers up, arms outstretched.

Even if he's unsure if his arms will bear the weight of someone falling from a height of three storeys, he has to try.

The nangdo chances a look down at him before he's back to being occupied by the four blades aiming at him.

Stupidly, the boy chooses to ram another off the tower, taking a sword to his shoulder guard in the process.

If he had just chosen to run up, he could have been up there, supporting the child who guarded his back.

But by now, running up poses the serious threat of the boy being pushed off.

"Jump damn it, I'll catch you!"

The child cries out as a sword is driven through his arm, and he's thrown over the edge.

Bracing for the impact, Seokpum rang staggers as he catches Yushin's nangdo, almost surprised at the lack of weight.

More than that though, it's the eyes that look up at him.

His nangdo charge up the tower, clearing off the remaining Baekje soldiers, bringing down the boy's bow in the process.

Despite the child grasping tightly at his wounded arm with a bleeding hand, the child isn't in too bad a shape.

 _Sprained ankle, bruising, shallow cut to the abdomen,_ and bearing in mind the people he must have taken down, it's not bad at all.

Slight hesitation as he sets the boy down, resting him against the tower's support beam, his cadre mates running over.

"Deokman, are you okay?"

He gives them a reassuring, half-confident kind of smile.

Pulling off his headband, fully intent on using it as a torque for the child when another of the nangdo interrupt, pulling open a bag.

"We should put some herbs to prevent infection first."

The boy invariably spasms, exhaling shakily at the application.

After, he watches his expression as he tightens their makeshift bandage, ensuring it's not too tight.

* * *

Like with the Seju, he's indebted.

It doesn't mean he strictly has to, but he chooses to do so.

The kid struggles with pulling his bow, gasping softly as the pain makes him let go, and the arrow goes wide.

"You shouldn't be straining your arm when it's still healing."

Arguably, one would consider this admonishment his attempt to handicap Yushin's Yong Hwa Hyang Do.

He prefers the latter thought that he's trying to look out for the weaker than average nangdo whom he still owes his life to.

The kid looks almost caught off guard by his concern, and it is, admittedly, understandable.

Given the abuse all the other Hwarang factions heaped upon them for the past couple of years, it's something hard for them all to adjust to, not having a scapegoat to take their anger out on.

A shifting back to the original movement, where everyone viewed each other as rivals, but still comrades.

"I need to be ready for the next Bi Jae."

He wraps his hand around the nangdo's, showing him a looser grip.

"Yushin's going to enter you all?"

Cautiously, the kid follows.

He takes care again, in watching for pain, pulling the bowstring back with Deokman's good hand.

"I don't know. Seokpum rang, what do you think?"

Seokpum barks a laugh, jarring in the darkness.

"I don't think you should be asking me. Go ask your Hwarang yourself. But if I had to answer, definitely not with members injured like you. Alcheon rang maybe a heartless enough bastard to do something like it, but I would personally never enter a Bi Jae without all my members."

 _He cares. He does, he really does, but only for those who actually matter._

The next night, the kid is right back at the same vicious style he used on the Baekje soldiers.

"You'll destroy your arm at this rate, Deokman."

Gently, coaxing, - _weakening a rival?-_ he helps the kid regain his former arm strength.

The following night, the kid returns his headband, washed and pressed.

At the sight of it, his hand raises to his forehead, realising that it's bare.

He hadn't even begun to realise that he missed it.

And it's a kind smile, small, unexpectedly sweet.

"Thank you."

 _No, it should be me thanking you._

He only hums in reply, continuing with their training session.

* * *

Watching from the side-lines, Alcheon rubs his temples when the kid executes a flawless sky-earth cut, forcing one of the Bi Cheon Ji Do members on the defensive.

He can feel the stares of his nangdo and his fellow Hwarang heavy on his back.

"You taught him?"

Yushin rang stewing beside him, ignoring him on purpose as Im Jong rang questions him, incredulous.

He makes a noncommittal sound, something along the lines of Yushin being a terrible teacher, and not wanting the kid to be killed.

He only tells himself that he doesn't regret teaching Deokman when the child ends up winning that match.

As the sword fights draw to a close, he elbows Yushin rang in the side.

"He's a good kid. Teach him well."

Later, in their closing match, he wins the fight between him and Daenambo with a sky-earth cut.

It's his signature after all, and no one does it better than him.

He sighs at that thought.

Because after months of training, relying on his weaker arm, the kid can now dual wield.

* * *

Despite his best attempts at instilling some form of self-respect in the kid, he refuses to pull a sword on any of the Hwarang.

If it had been just once, or twice, he might have been persuaded to let it drop, but Seokpum rang knows all these incidents are all tigers begging to be released from their cages to wreak havoc.

As usual, it begins with them, _-all the Hwarang minus Pil Tan and Sun Yul who always decline, Yushin who's not invited, and Alcheon who stopped-_ getting mightily drunk.

It ends with him concussed and so out of it and on top of that waif of a kid.

"Aren't you just a little too pretty to be a guy?"

"And so light and weak?"

"Tch you all don't know, that midget killed so many Baekje scum, he's actually not half bad."

Teasing, "I'd say! Wang Yoon, didn't Park Wie mistake you for a gisaeng the other time?"

This time he takes it a step further, just enough to scare them into stop harassing the kid.

"Instead of Deokman who has actual balls, why don't we all strip Wang Yoon instead? Paint him pretty and see if the Lady of the House reclaims him."

Drunken laughter, but Wang Yoon is distinctively uncomfortable, Duk Choong even makes a couple grabs at his friend's belt before Bojong rang tells them all to knock it off.

The kid escapes relatively unscathed this time, breathing evenly under him, unlike prior occasions where he'd be pushed about, mocked, and be subjected to trailing fingers.

Later, the Yong Hwa Hyang Do's chief medic, Jukbang comes a-knocking.

"Hangover tonic for you, Seokpum rang. Our compliments."

He gives them a half smirk.

"Watch over Deokman, he's too kind for his own good."

* * *

When it came down to, it was in all honesty, still irony.

She/he that child extends him his/her hand and smiles.

"I'll help you stand, so teach me how to fight again, Alcheon rang."

He became her guard, she was his princess.

* * *

He/she that kid held a hand out and said she wanted him when his Seju cast him aside.

"Would you become one of my people then, Seokpum rang?"

He can't forget the kindness and acceptance buried within her/his eyes when he/she willingly took him – someone who was discarded.

She was his imaginary creditor, but he was very much a debtor.

* * *

He was Deokman, finest archer of all of Silla who rose to acclaim during the Baekje-Silla wars, recognised by General Gyebaek as a threat and Gukseon Munno as an accomplished swordsman.

She was Queen Seondeok, the kindest, fairest and the first Queen of Silla, well known for leading her troops into battle personally, clashing directly with Generals on flat grass fields, uniting the three lands under her rule.

Only after multitudes of conquest were people to accept that they were one and the same.

* * *

But for both Alcheon rang and Seokpum rang, it hadn't mattered so much.

He/She had been the kid/child/their Princess, and it was still irony that at the end of it all they had suspected but never truly known.

* * *

This has been running around in my head for the longest time. However, after KamilahKaliope recently reviewed on an old Six Flying Dragons fic, my settled k-drama interest reared its head and this got written.

Head canons of this AU will be on my profile, I hope to turn this into a series of loosely tied one-shots within the same mild-AU.

Honestly speaking, this is kinda completionist in nature, this Warrior!Deokman fic.

Stuff that could come up... Maybe a small Yushin one, Munno-Ho Jae, Mishil-Seolwon, Yong Chun-Chun Chu, Daenambo on Cheonmyeong, Bojong-rest of Hwarangs.

No ideas here for any except for the Daenambo on Cheonmyeong one.

Or, maybe a young!Deokman one to act as the back story for the above one-shot.

I'll edit the tags as necessary, but well haha this will be quite stagnant for a while.

Don't worry too much though, this will not be escalating into a full blown connected series, even if I dearly wish to.

Yours,

Kayo.


	2. History - Blue Red Green

It's like history to him.

But it is part of his history, part of what has made her into him and she could almost cry thinking of such memories.

He has never regretted his desire to help people as much as that day.

Should have seen her mother's discomfort.

Should have seen that the warrior had something to do with her father and the reason she and her mother had run from their homeland.

But she had been a fool – justly, she had paid.

And he had made that man pay.

 _She had been ten. Ten and young and foolish._

* * *

The warrior had come, lost and wandering in the desert.

She had merely been out – chanced upon him, lost, wandering, weary.

He would most certainly have died if she had left him out that night.

He tested her patience the way no one ever had, second-guessing her reading of the stars by his half-assed knowledge of divination.

A bunch of bullshite she never called him out for, for he was half mad in both grief and devotion she had pitied him

Hah.

Pitied such a lovesick puppy with owner abandonment issues.

Maybe it would have been years, upon reflection that she would draw parallels between Chilsuk rang and Seokpum rang.

They had been similar, but unlike Seokpum, she hadn't made Chilsuk hers.

Chilsuk sought her mother out specifically, and in doing so made her an enemy directly.

She hadn't cared too much, far too consumed by the agony.

At the end of that night, she watched her mother burn alive.

Uncle Cartan pulling her out of the way of a falling beam, incessant urgings for her to hurry and get out.

And she had struggled, struggled till the Roman merchant stumbled from smoke inhalation and he suddenly became dependent on her.

Perhaps by then, she had resigned herself to losing her mother-figure, but in that cruel twist of fate, she had carried her closest friend out of the burning building, leaving her mother to burn alive.

Arguably she shouldn't blame herself – she certainly didn't want to blame herself.

Deokman decided in her heart to blame that Silla warrior.

In doing so, she condemned him, and therefore, she killed him.

* * *

Carved him up with his own blade.

Someone delirious from fumes, but so utterly guilty and Deokman's heart throbbed.

He stumbled out looking no worse for wear, muttering for his Seju, "Seju, I have finally accomplished my task…"

Saying that she was angry would be an understatement, and she lunged for him, unsheathing the only weapon her mother ever gave her.

Knocking him over with such ease, he offered so little fight she was unsatisfied.

But the moment her clean dagger shone, she paused, eyes flitting to the blade on the man's hip.

"Ah. I shouldn't soil my own blade."

That was all she did, blinded him first, then slashed at his ankles and wrists.

Then across the chest, cutting through coarse fabric.

He groans, not quite registering pain and Deokman snarls.

She presses the full edge of the blade to his skin, gently inching in, and in.

The first drops of blood ooze out through the surface and he hisses.

Hands making a grab at her and she stomps on them.

They break with sharp 'cracks' and he lets loose an agonised groan.

Chilsuk demands her identity, attempts to fight her, "Who are you? A protector of the princess?"

And evenly she replies, "I will not let you land another finger on the Princess."

He smirks a bloody smirk, "That princess is cursed to die, following the prophecy. If you know her, distance yourself lest you find yourself in more trouble."

Hacking coughs and laughs and she scoffs.

"Then she will become a stronger princess. She won't be the one to die. I will ensure that."

She slices away, and bathing in the spray of blood cleansed herself.

For knowing that her hands were stained, knowing the price of safety, she would fight to protect and become good at protecting.

* * *

Protect this imaginary princess whom he cannot be.

"Deokman..?"

She wakes up, hurrying to get water.

"Drink up, Uncle. The doctor said that you'll recover, thankfully you didn't inhale too much smoke."

He catches her hand, prompting her to look him in the eye.

His clear, expressive brown eyes.

"Deokman, what happened to Sohwa?"

She smiles grimly.

The merchant apologises, but Deokman declines them, "I'm fine. It was an accident, Uncle…"

"Where will you go now?"

"I will return to my homeland. My mother's homeland, my father's. I will find my father. And I will find out who is the princess that man was chasing."

He frowns.

"Silla has a princess, she is said to be a lady so fair and radiant even the sun does not compare. There is no reason for her to be out here, Deokman. He must have been crazy."

The girl shakes her head.

"If that is the case, then I must meet this princess."

Uncle Cartan nods, accepting her decision.

"Very well, then, let me robe you. Then you can set off with the first caravan headed for Silla."

She gratefully accepts – she notes he picks out the male cuts of clothes.

A stabbing knife tucked into her boots, a bow to help catch prey out in the lands, her jewelled dagger hanging loosely, under her shirt.

It's her final connection to her mother after all.

* * *

The caravan is a pleasant enough place to be, merchants from all walks of life, warriors of varying skill, wares carrying enough mystique for a lifetime.

Deakman is not so prone to awe or amazement anymore, travelling with magicians who teach her sleight of hand, travelling with palm readers who teach her how to read people.

"You can make a lot of generalisations about people, Deokman. If they're coming to see a fortune teller, you already know that they want something."

She nods firmly and practises on other merchants in the caravan.

The old lady with the magic ball tells her, "Trade secret, yes? Good. Now, if you look into the crystal ball here, you cannot see anything special, but what it does do as you move your hands across is create shadows in the tent."

Running around doing errands ensures everyone will spare her a meal, running around and knowing everyone tells her that building connections will help in life, running around and learning from everyone opens her eyes.

The cloth merchant from Persia tells her, "Here, this one is more durable and less likely to get you robbed compared to the silk ones."

The astrologer from China tells her, "Never believe someone who tells you that he is the best. Look at me, I am an astrologer but I'm telling you that the Mayans of the great mountains can accurately predict even when the Sun is covered. Look at all the books. In fact, here, have one, these Mayan calendars are the pinnacle of knowledge of the stars."

They're like family and nowhere along the way does she feel like the trip is dragging.

It's pleasant to spend time travelling and learning, but when they reach Silla the nagging feeling returns.

She misses her mother more than anything and longs to feel the harsh sandstorm in her face.

Bidding each merchant goodbye, making them promise that they'll come to visit Silla again in the future, they wave her off.

They mutter, softly, of wanderlust and young kids who are now alone.

Uncle Cartan isn't here, but in his absence of companionship, Deokman has made new friends who have educated her to the eyes of man and tongues of the continents.

Of course, they know she's orphaned, but they don't all know why.

Deokman doesn't talk about Sohwa to any of them, to an extent maybe she tried to forget.

Her eyes are keen and she finds in the crowd a pair of tricksters.

They approach her like she's an easy target, but they call her, "Boy."

She hides a laugh, thinking _too easy._

"Are you looking for someone?" the shorter, older male asks.

The looking around gave her away, she answers, "Yes," looking surprised.

* * *

They dupe her, try to make a run for it, she takes a tumble and they come back for her.

By the end of the day, they're friends.

It's weird and definitely not how Deokman envisioned her first day in Silla but then again, she's grateful to have people to hang around with now.

Jukbang and Godo are not the usual swindlers on the road, they're not bad at it.

Not to mention, Jukbang-hyeong is old and wiser than most, harmless looking with medical expertise under his belt.

* * *

Somewhere along the way they got tangled with the Princess she had been searching for, recruited into an outcast military group composed of children _(they're still children and young but here even babies kill)_

The three of them have a place to go, they begin military training and learning how to use wooden practice swords.

Their leader is an idealistic boy completed by this ridiculous looking feather-adorned hat, Kim Yushin.

Thank goodness it's replaced by a blue headband with an ornate metal crest – even the other military groups were pointing fingers and laughing.

* * *

The next time the red group sets themselves on them the blues Deokman breaks the leader's nose.

She sits on his back and stabs his blade into the ground in front of his eyes.

Contemplating, _wow this is violent_ and _how did we get ourselves into this?_

In the chaos no one can see the red leader, Bojong rang on the ground, and she offers.

"If you promise to get up and call the rest of your fellows off, I'll get off. If not, I could show everyone that a newbie has just defeated you. Choose, Bojong rang."

He takes her offer and she tells him, coolly looking him in the eye, "The next time you come like this, I will do more than your nose."

Fear, in his young eyes and she rubs her intact nose bridge.

 _Children. Just children with parents who have sheltered them and been the biggest fish in the pond for ages._

She has little sympathy for the bully.

 _Oh right._

Coming back to how they ended up like this, she sighs as Jukbang-hyeong kindly applies a soothing mash of mint and aloe to her knuckles.

 _They saved said princess, tried to make rain and failed, then more things happened, but the Princess has a notion of loyalty and gratefulness under her snooty exterior._

She walks the Princess back to the palace door as the rest of the troop deals with the bandits with the aid of some guards.

They parted at the threshold of the palace gates, the one physical barrier between them and the girl said, "Please tell Yushin rang. I will have him called to the palace to serve as my hwarang."

Not just gratefulness, but that edge of heat and pink to her cheeks from running, she smiles at Deokman and says, "Thank you for saving me back then. I owe you one."

Deokman grins cheerfully, "I'll protect you always."

As the princess turns away, Deokman notices that behind her ear is a beauty mark.

A hand slowly raises to her own, feeling the raised bump there.

An identical beauty mark.

She has this little feeling curling in her gut, an uncertainty like _what is going on?_

But then again, she delivers the news and –

Yushin rang is overjoyed.

Their happiness is short-lived because they are not accepted by the rest.

Yushin only says, "If we work hard enough and show we're strong enough, they'll be forced to."

* * *

She is weak but she trains, as the years roll by she grows.

She grows taller but she's still short, grows stronger but she's still weak, grows smarter and in that aspect, she is not beaten.

She's also faster, lighter and therefore deadly.

"Deokman ah," Yushin rang and to a certain extent the whole of the Yong Hwa Hyang Do baby her.

She's a he to them but she's still the smallest and they feel almost obliged to take care of her.

"Can you go check on Godo?"

Godo is obviously napping in his free time, but Deokman doesn't miss the way his leader's eyes flit to the entrance to their barracks.

They're expecting a fight and they want him away from it.

He frowns, stays put and says, "He's sleeping. I just came out from the quarters."

The elder male closes his eyes and rubs his temple.

"You know why I'm doing this, don't be difficult."

"I can fight, Yushin rang."

"I know you can, but today Im Jong rang's Hu Guk Seon Do is coming. Unlike our usual, they're civilised and will ask for one on ones. You've never even touched a blade and you're not strong enough to execute a flip, if you enter our line up you'll become an easy match for any of their nangdo."

Deokman relents _because he can't hold a sword without breaking down, can't hold a blade without seeing the blood the blood oh gods_

He crumples to the floor and Yushin panics.

 _The groaning and crying of Chilsuk she wasn't sorry no I'm not sorry imnotImnotImnotnotnotnot_

"Snap out of it, kid!"

He breaths hard as Jukbang-hyeong calms him down, the incense stick burns and wraps around him, soothing him to sleep

 _I'm not sorry I cut him up. I'm not because he deserved and I wanted to see him in pain…_

His thoughts trail off and his mind goes blissfully blank.

Jukbang chastises Yushin rang, "I told you not to talk about his inability to hold a sword of all things."

The blue-clad Hwarang nods almost miserably, though he tries to distance himself by saying, "It's disgraceful how he can't even hold a blade."

They both know he doesn't mean it – Deokman is proficient in wielding a blade but he can't not use it to kill and that is crippling.

He remembers the boy's eyes wide and maniac, poised to drive the blade through Daenambo's chest.

The male in a light blue-green had been helplessly caught off guard by the viciousness and the forcefulness of Deokman's attack that he kept retreating till Deokman pinned him.

If Yushin rang hadn't tackled Deokman away… Jukbang shudders.

 _That would have been bad._

Since then, Daenambo never came back with his cadre.

* * *

There's a whole lot of convoluted history among the different Hwarang factions.

Just among them, already the politicking and blood ties and loyalties, it makes Deokman's head spin.

Because if Chilsuk was sent to murder her mother then there must be a reason.

Since Chilsuk was supposed to have been faithful only to the Seju, Mishil, then that was the woman Deokman would have to kill.

The Hwarang are split like this, reds, orange, purples, and light green are all the Seju's.

Yellow and Green are part of the non-aligned movement, but Im Jong rang's green faction all idolise the long-missing Gukseon. Or, as far as Deokman is concerned, his absent, likely father, the Gukseon Munno.

Since the Gukseon was supposedly King Jin Pyeong's devoted servant, Deokman supposes they can be considered loyal to the throne.

Finally, there's them, the Blue.

Because Princess Cheonmyeong was the one who brought them in, that would mean they're loyal to her.

Yu Shin rang certainly quite fits the image of a devoted servant, he's like a puppy.

Deokman laughs with the Princess as they drink tea.

 _After all, the princess is his to protect. He protected her from day one. Chilsuk wanted to kill this princess after killing his mother, therefore the best way to live out his life and enact revenge would be to screw with the Seju and protect the princess._

"Deokman ah, tell me, what are you thinking so deeply about?"

He smiles and shakes his head, "Nothing much, my princess. Just noticing that we both have the same birthmark."

The princess grins, cheekily and partaking in this friendship of theirs, placing her hand over his, "Looks like we are fated, after all!"

They're open about it, the servants whisper, but they're more siblings than lovers at any rate even though no one actually knows.

A week, then a next, then the third and because they've been friends for years, she confesses.

"Princess, I… I am female."

The story unfolds and the princess drags her off to see the King and Queen.

"There are people watching, my lady, why are you doing this?"

And so they have to stage a fall.

* * *

Because as it turns out they're twins and people actually believe in prophecies made by quacks – it resulted in her being abandoned.

"When twins are born, the male Seonggol line will cease."

She holds her tongue from snarking, _well considering the King and Queen didn't have more children after Cheonmyeong and I, we don't have anyone to blame, do we?_

She's perfectly calm when she stands and bows, "I am comfortable where I am now, princess. So do not worry yourself over me. Aren't you getting married soon? If you marry and have children, will that not prove that the prophecy is false?"

 _Archaic rules and drawn out power plays,_ Deokman clenches his fist so hard his nails draw blood.

"Lord Yongsu has to come back victorious from a large battle. The council will never consider our child to be a Seonggol otherwise."

His beautiful sister speaks steadily but her eyes show the pain she's in and his heart aches.

The Lady of the Seal, Mishil has tied their parents' hands. They're so helpless it makes her angry.

And yet, sweet Cheonmyeong does not hold an ounce of resentment towards them.

Deokman swears.

"I swear, I will always protect you, your husband and your child."

His sister takes that pinky promise, so they put on a huge show.

He, at least.

Showing his shock and horror, only half faked, rushing from the royal quarters – the rest of the Royal Family running to the door, calling out of him like he was a long-lost son and _it works._

Immediately the palace is in an uproar and everyone is watching his every move.

 _No one, not even Mishil-Seju can touch so much as a hair on his head._

* * *

"Did you hear, back then, the Seju prophesied that if the Royal Family had twins the Seonggol line will dry up?"

"Yes, but I also heard that Princess Cheonmyeong is pregnant."

"I also heard that the twin is male!"

* * *

Like slur against the Priestess' name, they parade around the fact that she was wrong.

Next step, to use the Priestess against herself.

Knowing that the only way for her to reassert her authority is to proclaim something else, Deokman and her sister plot.

"But how is it possible that she can predict the future?"

Deokman shrugs.

"I don't know where she got her quack idea but lots of people elsewhere already know how to calculate days of the solar, lunar eclipses, just not the rain. While I was in the desert we used to rely on the stars all the time. Uncle Cartan used to tell me about the Mayans who worshipped the Sun God, they can predict the time of solar eclipses down to the very hour."

"Can you calculate the next one?"

A wry smile tugs at her lips.

"History is bound to repeat itself. She'd take the biggest and the best, Princess. We don't have to calculate one for ourselves. We just need to make hers wrong."

* * *

[History repeated itself and the Seju fell for it.]

The King made her stake her life on it and that's exactly what that woman did.

[Deokman is not an idiot and she is angry at this quack that bought a book and brought a kingdom to its knees]

She doesn't consider the Priestess to be a political equal because all she has behind her are the heavens.

[The heavens are fickle. Just like the monk the priestess relies on for her calculations.]

Deokman looks at the monk seated before her, clacking his prayer beads.

She tells him, "In a month, on the 11th hour, there will be a total solar eclipse."

The monk smiles and asks her for her name.

"Young man, I am intrigued by your ability. I am Monk Wol Chun of this monastery. If you would kindly withdraw the guards, perhaps we could talk."

[Too bad.]

"Of course, Lord Monk. I'd be happy to compare calendars with you. Isn't it a pity that the less knowledgeable find their lack of knowledge turned against them? Don't you find it a pity that your king and queen have their collars held by a woman who has bedded three kings in succession? Because I do."

[They cut the chase and the Monk…]

"I have been waiting for someone like you, young man. Mishil has used the heavens for her own benefit. I too am guilty of using the heavens to ensure the safety of my temple. But that will be the undoing of all of us. What do you want of me?"

[She laughs.]

"Tell her that the date is the day before, do not give her a time. And I will announce my own calculations and how I found the time. Before the people, I will show them that royals are humans and seers are just using the people's lack of awareness."

"As you wish, then. If you believe you can educate the people, I will comply. But pray, do tell, what shall I do if you fail to uphold your end of the bargain?"

Deokman shrugs.

"Will anything change for you, Monk Wol Chun?"

* * *

She gives two addresses to the people.

"Today is the day that Mishil Seju says there will be an eclipse. I am here to tell you she is wrong. I will stay here till the end of the day, there will be no eclipse."

[There is none and the Priestess is going crazy in her shrine. The Princess collapses in relief.]

"I am here to tell you that the eclipse will happen tomorrow, at the 11th hour. I will also show you how I conclude that. There is no such thing as a seer who sees the future, only people who have watched the skies for so long they can find the next day by calculation."

[She writes and draws, paints her brush across the walls of people's homes, etches the proofs into the brick, knowing that scholars avidly follow her. The crowd is too big, she cannot be touched. The Priestess cannot stop her.]

"The Mayans, the Babylonians, the Tang all have scientists devoted to the study of the stars. We only have a priestess who gets a monk to do the calculations for her. And in turn, she pretends like the heavens spoke to her."

* * *

In teaching the people she rescinds the royal house's authority of the heavens.

Not all listen, but some are better than none.

Her second address teaches the people the basics of how an eclipse happens.

She talks and talks and talks and more people gather with her.

The caravan that rolled into town a month ago has a few people whom she knows and they too, come to listen.

The Astrologer from Tang squeezes his way to the front and waves, she smiles back and continues to teach.

Finally, the 11th hour strikes and everyone settles down.

They hand out drinks, Deokman still dressed in her peasant garb lounges around with her old friends.

As predicted, the eclipse begins.

The crowd hushes as they all watch.

"I am not a seer, the Seju is as much a seer as any of us can be. She's just an overpowered concubine who slept with one too many kings."

* * *

She doesn't control her snark well, has this abrasive personality when it comes to people in power and she grumbles too much to pretend to be content but Jukbang-hyeong is used to it.

Bojong rang avoids her, Daenambo rang runs at the sight of her and there's this odd look in Seokpum rang's eyes.

The Seju is disgraced, she steps in as a Princess of all things and they reel in shock.

While the blue-green dress on her shoulders is most disagreeable to move in, she takes pleasure in how stunned they can look.

"You all are all my people," she tells them because she won't let history repeat itself.

Her sister is now the queen, Lord Yongsu returned safely the day after the eclipse, Deokman controls the Hwarang.

She won't let them stray again.

* * *

[She made history; History made her and put her in a position to change the future.]

* * *

Everything in this except the date of the eclipse is factually correct. The ancient Babylonians really did know their game.

I guess, writing as Deokman in person is kind of hard.

Kid's lost her mother, not found her father, found out she's apparently been abandoned?

I never understood how she could forgive the king and queen like that, but I would think she would have protected Cheonmyeong as best as possible.

Next time I'd want to bring the Gukseon back into the picture. How satisfying it will be to read of a universe where Bidam doesn't exist.

Maybe I should feel bad for destroying Mishil so thoroughly, but for Deokman's sake, no, I don't feel that at all.


End file.
